Indentations
by magnipisika16
Summary: "He looked behind him and found marks... indentations from the steps he and the girl had taken for the past years. He smiled, turned to her who was waiting for him. He took her by the hand, and together, they walked forward." A Collection of drabbles about Red and my OC. No hates please. T to be safe :3
1. Hug

**Hello there :D This will just be another warning for you regarding the fact that this is a collection of RED X OC (her name is Pink) drabbles I think about, and I write them down to let go of the feels :3 If you still think you're interested, then please go ahead :D Thank you for giving my drabbles, and my OC a chance :D**

**Please enjoy ^^**

* * *

He slowly looked up, with her just watching him.

"What's up?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Red didn't reply, and just gestured for her to come closer, and she did, until they were but a few inches away from each other and the girl could hear his heartbeat from underneath that white cotton shirt. He neared his face to her, making her recoil a bit, but nonetheless stayed in place, guiltily waiting.

"I'm cold," he suddenly whispered, his lips slightly parted, just centimeters away from hers. She stared into his eyes.

"Really?" she asked, fighting off a giggle. He hummed his agreement and acknowledgement of her reaction before quickly yet still tenderly—if ever that was possible to be done—burying his face on her shoulder and wrapping his long, weary arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

Pink just blinked.

"Sorry to break it to you, sweet, but this is not how you fight off the cold." She meant it as a joke, but the sound of it joined together by her slight attempt at refusal to his gesture made him whimper as he held tighter.

"Don't be selfish," he whispered.

"I'm not being selfish… I'm just being practical… You think this small frame of mine can provide enough warmth to do enough for you? Don't trouble yourself."

He didn't reply. Meaning, he didn't care. Implying, he wouldn't let go.

And she laughed at that.

She felt the same anyway.

Wrapping her thin arms around his neck, she gave in and closed whatever distance she retained at her slight tone of refusal, feeling as if their bodies were being molded to fit each space and connect each curve.

She could feel him smile, his lips brushing against her shoulder.

"I like it more this way," he sighed. "I don't care what you'll say anymore…"

"Don't worry…" she replied. "I feel the same way…"

* * *

**That's it :D Thanks for reading ^_^**


	2. Smile

She caught the silence in such an overwhelming manner.

"Red…?" she called out, even though the owner of that name was nothing more but a few inches apart from hers, his eyes closed.

"Hm?" They opened, revealing a pair of weary red eyes, staring directly into hers, piercing through her very soul, making her wince inside. But, on the outside, she just froze, and looked back.

"What's wrong? You can't sleep?" She shook her head apologetically, as if lying there, just next to him, with only a palm's length to separate each from the other, watching him as he fought off his urge to fall into slumber—something that he is constantly doing upon _her _request—was such a self-destructing sin.

He yawned, and gave out a weary sigh. "Well, we can't do anything about that now, can we?"

"I'm sorry…" she whispered.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about…"

But indeed, there was so much. So many. It filled her heart with so much heavy emptiness she couldn't but feel like she's shrinking… Slowly sinking into those soft duvet covers; getting lost within the soft creases and the deep indents of his bed…

…and he wouldn't even realize that she was gone…

But she knew that arguing those words will result only in futile. He was firm like that, contrary to the way he would deliver everything so gently at her. He was so gentle at her, she could only cry.

"Well, what do you want to do?" He still had that impervious, always so unbelievably and unacceptably tender smile intact, making her stomach churn with so much guilt.

This was bothersome… truly, truly bothersome.

They had once told her that she was taking him for the wrong implications; that he was just simply like that. He never had any hidden motives, nor did he try and act. He was true—no truer than the vicious lies of impediment—and that she—yes, not even she—can cause him to be different. To be fake.

And she, of all people, should know that.

But she didn't. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

If her past persona was able to, then that was past. This was present, and this present connotes only confusion. Doubt. Mistrust. Guilt. And every other thing a mind not containing any memory vivid enough to explain everything for her needs.

He still awaited her answer.

"I…" she started, but soon found her own self trailing off.

"Am I making you uncomfortable with this distance?" he suggested, smiling sheepishly. "I told you, I can just go sleep on the other room if you…"

"No, this is fine," she immediately blurted out, much to his surprise. She gave effort to avoid his questioning stare. "I… I was the one who requested for you to stay, so this…" Again, she trailed of, cursing herself for having nothing to say.

"…It's fine…"

"Then, why…" Red chose not to continue anymore. She noticed the slight quiver in his eyes. She saw that slight hesitation—she was sure of it.

"Nevermind," he smiled. "Well, if there's nothing bothering you, then maybe you'd like to do something… Anything… Or are you fine with us just staring at each other like…"

"Red, do you love me?"

He stared.

She swore she could already see herself getting lost in those white sheets as she grabbed them in flustered anger.

Why _that _question, of all things?!

Slowly, she stared up, half-expecting to see him still staring at him, or perhaps giving her a blatantly grim look of disapproval, but instead, what she saw was the same damn smile.

She had to suppress the urge to scream.


	3. Doll

_Hi there :D Thanks for enduring until le third chapter ^_^ I realized that there were people who cared enough to read this, and for that, I thank you ^_^_

_This one came out of a dream…_

_**-m16-**_

Red gritted his teeth in annoyance. He knew that what he was doing was wrong; what he was feeling was downright cruel… But she made him like this.

Just painstakingly like this…

"…I'm really sorry," she was saying, and the last three words were the only thing he caught from her long soliloquy. He didn't answer. He chose not to answer.

He was afraid of what he might say.

He just stared harder at the transparent glass that separated him from the now badly injured Yellow, but only to catch the sight of her faint reflection, there, sitting just behind him, head hung low. As if she really regretted everything. As if she cared.

It was all her fault.

"Not only for Yellow," she suddenly continued. "But for everything… I know I've been bugging you for so long now—trying to make you remember me and who we were—that I didn't realize that it was beginning to affect you in a bad light… I guess I was just trying to find that comfort in this new world I have come to…"

He clenched his fist out of frustration. She was doing it again.

Referring to that "other world"; that place where there was neither 'he' nor 'she', just 'them'… 'We'. 'Us'. Not knowing that he, too, knows of that "other world", and it was not really an "other world" but rather a "past"…

…A past best left forgotten…

He had to swallow the urge to just run away and say nothing anymore. He's had enough.

Just damn enough.

"Red, I…" she started again, obviously unaware of what he was thinking of her. Of how much he despised hearing her voice. He wanted her gone. He wanted her to disappear.

"…I know you don't remember me anymore. Or maybe you never _did _meet me in this world, but…"

How contradicting, he thought. So she did believe his lies.

If only she knew…

He remembered her; that was certain.

"…But, I want you to know that I really, really loved you… I _love _you… I _will _love you… And those feelings have transcended even in this place where the same feelings were never casted. Perhaps, you don't feel the same way now, or maybe you don't remember feeling the same way before, but I am certain—no wait, I mean… _hopeful_—that you felt the same way for me back there from where I came from…"

He had to suppress another urge. She was driving him nuts.

"Maybe that's why I've been acting this way to you…" He saw her smile apologetically from the same faint reflection, she obviously unaware that he was watching her.

Sickening.

"Maybe there was still a part of me that wanted you to be the same…"

Absolutely sickening.

"…But then, I saw that things were really different now. That no matter how much I was trying to reel this place into my fantasy, the reality that it all is was beginning to suck me in instead. I've begun seeing things; those things that I thought would've been constant, but have changed drastically, and in just a short while, too…"

Silence befell to them both. He wondered if she wanted him to respond.

Then she spoke again.

"You know, just a while ago, before coming here, I went to check that old special place you and I used to visit then… Lover's Leap? Remember it?" She gave a small bitter laugh. "Funnily, I was originally planning to take you there and make—f-force—you to remember everything… But when I got there, the most disheartening scene appeared in front of me…"

He knew what she meant. For so many years, he and Pink have kept that place hidden from others, but ever since she was gone, he had left that place to rot. It had probably been discovered by others, and is probably a dump by now.

Not that he cared.

_She _never cared…

Why did you come back?, he wanted to shout. She left, never giving at least a glance backward, to his direction. And now she's here again?

He couldn't understand why everything had to be poured all over him again when he had finally found the chance to dry himself. Recover. Move on.

Now, he's finding himself drenched up again—cold and afraid. Scared that if she continued talking, he might give in and let her back into his life, letting history repeat itself.

It was good that she believed his deceptive lies—until now she still thinks he doesn't remember nor recognize her; that she was "transported"—she does not belong in _this _world…

…but he doubts for how long.

"Red, I love you…"

He just bit his lip and closed his eyes.

"…And I'm sorry…"

"I don't forgive you," he finally hissed. He stared into her reflection to see if it had reached her, but the same sickening smile was still pasted in that pale face.

It made him sick.

Another gush of silence, and she had beat him yet again to break it.

"By the way," she said, standing up. To his horror, Pink began to walk towards him. Inwardly he begged for her not to get any close and do something _stupid_, and in some way, the girl must've heard for she stopped halfway, and stayed there.

She was finally standing just behind him and he could not see her reflection anymore.

"I wanted to return this to you…" He let himself a peak, not of her face, but of the object in her hand.

It was a pink, cat-like doll.

He remembered that doll.

"I.." she breathed. "You see, I stole this from you, some time ago…"

He couldn't believe his ears. That wasn't how he remembered that part.

"I knew how much you loved this doll, so I took it so I could get your attention…"

He gave it to her, on that day he first realized he was in love with her.

A long, long time ago.

"And, well, I never got to return it to you since…"

Why was she changing the story?

"So, yeah… Here…"

Why was she returning it?

"Go ahead, Red. It's yours anyway…"

He knew that _she _knew that she was lying.

"Please take it. I'm sorry I took it…"

He wondered how long he was going to play this charade of not knowing. It was beginning to backfire. It was beginning to hurt him.

"Pink…"

"I'm really sorry, Red."

He turned around and hesitatingly placed his hand on the doll. But he showed no signs of puling it away from her.

It belonged to her. And he knew how much she had loved it.

She loved it more than her life.

Slowly, gradually, one finger at a time, she let go of the doll. He noticed how much her fingers trembled as she did so, and it made him tremble as well.

"T-thanks…" was all he could muster to say before looking sideways. She didn't reply.

Silence.

He was waiting for her to break that silence again, but she didn't. She just stood there in front of him.

With so much hesitation he looked up, and saw her smiling.

It still sickened him.

He blinked.

There were now tears in her eyes.

He blinked.

The smile was beginning to disappear.

He blinked.

She was already sobbing.

He blinked.

She was still there.

He blinked. For the last time.

She was gone.


	4. Pillow

Pillow—

He tossed and turned for about the umpteenth time before finally giving in and opened his eyes. Two blinks, and again he was reminded that the cold surface he felt beneath his tired back was, in fact, not his bed at all.

A sigh followed by a yawn, and then he turned to his side.

It was dark and the only illumination he can make out was that coming from his window, surely coming from the moon luminescent in that peaceful evening, harmonizing with the dim streetlights that guided those who wish to take perhaps a midnight stroll. Those who, perhaps, cannot find the peace within them to finally fall into slumber.

Those, perhaps, just like him.

He wondered if _she _had fallen asleep. He wished she was. Then he can stand up without having to argue with her again about where one sleeps and other things related to that. Really, he didn't mind sleeping on the floor. He had found that cramped place that separated his bed from his closet quite comfortable, and the lone blanket that barely protected him from feeling the frozen floorboards against the thin material of his shirt—against his _skin_—was proving more than enough.

And if his right arm begins to numb from the weight of his head, then he can use the other. Simple as that.

He wished he could convince her just that. Then she can forget about it all and make herself comfortable. Because that's what he wants.

Coughing a bit, he raised his head a bit, took off his then numbing left arm, and replaced it with the other.

He had two other options, to be honest. One was that he sleeps on the other room, but she knew him. He made it clear to her.

In _no _way will he leave her alone at a time like this. Not after last time.

The other option was that he sleeps in his own bed… Besides, it's _his _bed anyway...

…but where will _she _sleep? On the floor? ("Absolutely not, Pink.") On his chair? ("Look, I get that you're small and all that, but I'm telling you from experience that _that _is not a comfortable place for you to sleep in…") In the other room? ("Recall my first argument.") On the same bed? ("Uh…")

Despite the fact that the last option seems legitimate—they used to not mind sleeping next to each other; Red knew his place (specifically at least one palm apart), and Pink never went as far as to push him out of his self-boundaries. But that was then, when Pink was still familiar with him. When she still _knew _him. When they were still comfortable with each other.

Familiarity and comfortability fleets quite easily, however, that which he recently found out. She'll mind him going anywhere near her—she'll _definitely _not like it.

He knew. The way she pushes him away explicitly tells him that; she needn't tell him.

And even though he didn't mind (she couldn't remember him; he had no choice but to _understand_), there is still that twinge of pain he feels every now and then whenever he looks at her, and he sees in her eyes the past; whenever he accidentally touches her, and he actually feels the same sensation from back then; whenever he felt so lonesome and afraid and the only thing that could ease his aching insides was holding her and he has to realize again and again that, "No, Red… You _can't _…"

Like tonight, for example.

He heaved another sigh. _Perhaps, I'll just sleep it off…_

There were creaking noises coming from his bed, and it broke off his concentration. He quickly raised his head to check if something was wrong, but found nothing. He blinked once. Twice. Thrice…

Still nothing.

"I-is anything wrong…?" he softly inquired to the figure moving underneath the white duvet covers. The lumps which he assumed to be her began deforming and soon, he found himself face to face with two bluish-pink eyes, staring from underneath his blanket.

"Hi," he smiled. She replied with a curt narrowing of her eyes—a gesture of disapproval—but seeing that she didn't say anything anymore only indicates that she's accepted the fact that she can't argue with Red's points from a while ago.

"Comfortable?" she asked, although the rise in her voice was not evident. As if the statement was not meant to be a question.

"Yeah, sure am," he lied. "What about you?"

She didn't reply, and disappeared yet again beneath the kingdom of white cloth. Red's smile fell.

So she still found it uncomfortable to talk to him, huh? He softly groaned, slumping himself back to the ground.

He didn't know how long he was going to endure all this.

Another set of squeaking noises, and his head bobbed to her direction again. But instead of seeing her, his view was blocked by something soft that landed on his face. He pulled it down and found that it was his pillow. He looked up, a questioning look in his face. She just watched him for a moment—he noticed her lying on her front—before slamming her pillowless head into the soft comforter.

"You've no rights to protest," she said in a muffled voice. "Coz I won't listen anyway…"

Red just watched her as she re-adjusted herself again, not knowing what to say. Then he stared at the pillow.

She's right. He had no right to protest.

It was a lonesome night, and he knew that the only thing that could ease it was wrapping his arms around her, reminding himself, that no, he was not alone. That he had someone who felt lonesome somewhere else, and that very person is thinking the same thing he was.

That the only thing that was separating them was what little distance.

But the distance, despite how little, is powerful. Not passable. And they both knew that.

Red took the pillow near his face, and sighed again, a slight contented look in his face.

For now, the pillow had to suffice.


End file.
